


mess is mine

by ullman



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:41:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ullman/pseuds/ullman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all about the messiness of relationships. Or baking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mess is mine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Raynedanser (for Make the Yuletide Gay 2015).

JC does existential crises like Debbie does Dallas.

And while that doesn't quite explain why JC picks their kitchen for his first foray into the world of wedding catering, Chris isn't going to complain. Of course if Lance hadn't chosen that same morning to see if a blow job would be an adequate substitute for an alarm clock (it totally is), he probably would have had some objections to a kitchen sink clogged with pink frosting.

"So which brain trust inspired this particular existential detour?" Chris asks, fully aware that he's opting for the broadest possible definition of brain trust, considering the fact that their kitchen walls appear to be covered in batter. Lance most likely won't share his mellowness when confronted with the war zone that once was their meticulously decorated kitchen, but recently obtained empirical data tells Chris that this will be easily remedied by sucking Lance's brain out through his cock.

"Justin," JC says, battering the remainder of the batter into submission with a fervor he usually saves for his carnal exploits. Or so Chris has been told.

He nods knowingly. _Broadest possible definition indeed_.

 

**

 

"Care to tell me why JC is going all Hansel and Gretel on our house?" Chris asks when Justin finally deigns to answer his phone. Then again, it's not like Chris had minded having to find ways to distract Lance from giving Justin his comeuppance. And by the looks of Lance's blissed out smile, neither had Lance.

"Chris," Justin answers, his voice low and croaky with sleep. "Come again?"

He mouths 'that's what you said' at Lance, ducking quickly before the other man's hand can connect with his head. "JC has been channeling his inner Buddy Valastro in our kitchen all morning," he explains. "And he tells us that we have you to thank for it."

"Not all me, dude. Jess thought it was one his more inspired ideas. You know, especially considering the fact that we're already married," Justin interjects, the faintest trace of smugness in his voice.

Chris can feel the corners of his mouth tug upwards when Lance suddenly snaps to attention next to him, holding out his hand. Chris happily hands over his phone.

"Right," Lance then drawls, every syllable laced with his own brand of smugness. "I can see how y'all would have been less supportive had JC decided nannying to be his new purpose in life."

As if on cue, Silas chooses that exact moment to join their conversation, apparently intent on getting his particular point of view across. Loudly.

"Great," Justin sighs. "So much for any of us ever getting any sleep again."

 

**

 

"Defiling a man's KitchenAid is never acceptable," Lance says.

"I don't know, Lance," Joey says around a large mouthful of glittery batter, because no record has ever shown him not to be supportive of any of their choices in life. "This is pretty good. And that pink goo in your sink isn't all that bad either. I think my man's onto something here," he adds, wrapping one arm around JC.

"There. Is. Glitter. In. My. KitchenAid."

"Oh, come on. It's not like you haven't had glitter in much worse places," JC points out, without missing a beat.

Lance blinks owlishly. "Touché."

Chuckling softly, Joey waves his thoroughly cleansed spoon around for emphasis as he declares, "If only I had a wedding in the works, man. I'd hire you in a heartbeat."

 

**

 

"Technically speaking, JC wasn't going Hansel and Gretel on your place," Justin says, his voice barely audible over the background howling. "I mean, it's not like they had any part in the actual construction of that gingerbread house."

"We really wish you'd get some sleep already, Justin."

Justin exhales, slowly. "Yeah. Now if only wishing made it so - "

 

**

 

"Tell me, is there a greater goal here?," Chris murmurs as he watches JC's hands work the dough with mesmerizing efficiency. It has been a week since JC first tried his hand at sparkly cakes and he's showing no signs of moving on just yet. On the contrary, JC seems intent on perfecting what appears to have become his signature cake, and Chris is pretty sure his jaw is about to pop from the strain of distracting Lance. "Because I'm starting to feel like I'm missing something - "

JC glances up from where his hands are rhythmically kneading the dough. He blindly folds the dough in half, rocking forward on the heels of his hands to push it flat. He smiles enigmatically. "Of course you are."

 

**

 

When he finds Lance on the phone, singing 'Hush, little baby' in low, gentle tones, Chris is awfully close to checking himself for ovaries. Or, more correctly, the remnants of said ovaries, because if he ever had any to begin with, they just exploded. Snorting softly, Chris carefully lowers himself down onto the couch behind Lance, slipping an arm around the other man. His smile mirrors Lance's when nothing but silence can be heard on the other end of the line by the time Lance hums the last notes of the lullaby.

Lance carefully presses end call, before drawing quietly, "I'd make one hell of a nanny." He tilts his head back, his green eyes softening when their gazes meet.

Chris blinks. _Oh_.

"What?" Lance asks, his brow furrowing in mild confusion. "Are you doubting my new life's purpose?"

"I wouldn't dare. No, I think I'm just doubting my brain."

Lance huffs a soft laugh. "Is there a particular reason for that, or is it more of a general concern?"

"I think Joey is probably right: JC really is onto something," Chris says as he tightens his arm around Lance.

"He usually is."

 

**

 

"So. Did you ever actually consider setting up shop as a wedding caterer, or was all of this - " Chris makes a sweeping gesture, indicating the glitter mess that is now a staple feature of their kitchen, adding, "Was all of this nothing more than just window dressing?"

JC's hands still. His fingers tighten around the ball of dough.

Chris smiles sagely. "You do know I'm going to kick your ass to the curb the next time you claim to have found the meaning of your life, right?"

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Chris agrees easily. "But hey, as long as you're still in the wedding catering business - "

JC glances up, his eyes crinkling as his face splits into an impossibly wide smile. "Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah."


End file.
